Blanket Of Lights
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Tear a hole into the sky

Make up your mind there

Let it roll a little while

With the purple studded sun stare

You may think you are you

(And that’s true)

But we are too!

Old Apollo Golden-Eye

Burns us into straight lines

Slouch, decline, grind it fine

Turn into a grape vine

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Mr. Poe, My Friend.

I Am, I am

Falling down

And in the clouds

There lives so many many

But in the sound

Of the people around

I hear the nouns

Pronounced with a hopeful howl

(When will I give the earth what it’s hungry for?

Grass grow green and Tree grow tall.)

Am I a man

Or am I a mouse?

The question is,

Do we really need it all worked out?

Ashes to ashes, 

And dust to dust

Everyone knows

Just what’s inside of us.

(When the fire burns, won’t you seize the light?

Yes sir, that’ll be my golden point.)

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The Living Sun
My previous five posts are all poems that are components of the collective entitled: (you guessed it!) “The Living Sun”. They are all dedicated to Aphrodite, who remains ever elusive. The series begins with “Let Us Sing Whalesong” and ends with “In the Wind; Out of Wind”. Thanks for reading! (Just so you know, there are stanza’s and divisions in certain points that you cannot see because my computer is acting up. )
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Let Us Sing Whalesong

The glass, the mollusk, and the earth turning around while the black cat sang. The whole thing seemed so dreadfully melodic and beautiful that I forgot how the story of my own life went. How many pages had been turned and how the butterflies danced together…

A BOY: TRAVELS HIGH, THEN LOW (JUDEA, JUDEA.)


A Boy

Boy with walking stick

Climbing high mountain

Cloud and Tree combine

Married we are Rendered Mobile

Half of the time.

Boy, A boy

With a walking stick

Let him pass with tomatoes

He throws them at the children

And takes the land

Growing himself more tomatoes

Now there is too much to eat

And too many people to feed.

Let the dogs take to the pastures

To whimper in the fields

For a tomatoe’s pay.

Only, You cannot eat it, tired dog!

You must throw it at the children.

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Tale of an Island

Cardboard Gena had given the plastic slip to Robby BeLafleur, conquerer of the west islands. He claimed that the voyage had been a painstaking attempt at rescuing the lost queen. But Gena was already with the queen. However, which queen ( Spades, Clubs, Diamonds, or Hearts ) she was with, Mr. BeLafleur debated.

  • Of an island

Tales of an island

That was off of the island

The back of a whale

That came to the surface

Speaking peace wherever it went.

Taken from home,

Franchesca wore her pea coat

And drank the fog

I wondered what you were

Up. Up. Up. Up!

Growing like bean stalks

But I am afraid of hights

And in the morning

There was an island.

(Or at least a tale of one.)

I knew by the quality of the silence

That there was no one around

To tell the tale.

(Of an island.)

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The Fire Play:(Acts One, Two, and 1+2)

And there was gravity

Between us!

Around us.

Beside us. Beside us.

Daisy meets a fellow.

(Step one.)

She is cautious with her dried leaves

(Step one that comes after the previous Step one.)

They crawl into a hole

And there was the sun!

Between us!

Around us.

Inside us. Inside us.

She fed me sunflower seeds

To make my stars burn.

And they did with ease.

I am no scoundral

But I have been arrested

I am not guilty

And yet I am punished.

It is because of what

I do not want.

But I don’t think those

Things. At all.

Anymore.

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Sunlight That Sells.

The Pickle Man

He sings a nursery rhyme

To assemble the tribe

With glowing faces they gaze

At The Pickle Man

Who is soaked in vinager

Who was once alive

But is now severed from the earth

And is blown around in the wind

Maybe I am a horse

And I run with a woman on

My shoulders.

And how I would plow the fields

For her.

To ear her flowers again.

I would not leave Aphrodite, the wise

On the island.

Or at least, the tale of

An island.

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In the Wind; Out of Wind.

Because the sun is here.

On a spinning whale’s back.

Inside of a pickle, man.

And it makes our faces glow.

It makes The Pickle Man glow too!

It feeds the gravity between us.

It takes us time to realize

But we realize; someday

That we are only butterflies dancing.

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Symbiosis

     Consider that we generated certain organisms such as, bacteria and viruses, that benefit by living and helping humans. Also imagine that we could selectively kill of more lethal bacteria and viruses in a laboratory setting. This might take years in the laboratory to develop, but the result would be a friendlier, more helpful bacteria or virus that would prevail over more lethal bacteria and viruses in “the wild”, (our bodies). If humans can find a way to live in symbiosis with more harmful viruses and bacteria, just like we do with less harmful species, it might end a great deal of suffering and pain for humanity. 

(If it’s possible, that is.)

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If Simon and Garfunkle…

Had a retarded love-child that made messed up music, that child would be me.